


Prescription

by snarechan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Study, Chocobos, Daemons, Dreams and Nightmares, Fatherhood, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Male Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sick Character, Sickfic, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 15:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13079724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: Maybe getting sick was just the thing Noctis needed.





	Prescription

**Author's Note:**

> The story is too crazy long for me to possibly cover everything I want to talk about, so head on over to my writing blog and see the [Prescription](http://snaurus.tumblr.com/tagged/prescription) tag for insight or drop me a question about it!
> 
> Edited by the stupendous, the fabulous, the marvelous Glyphenthusiast! They were generous enough to finish five days to Christmas. What a wonderful gift for us all. :')

"Do you see anything?" Noctis shouted. He'd cupped both hands around his mouth so Prompto could hear him better. His friend was balanced on top of Ignis' shoulders, who in turn stood on Gladiolus' shoulders. The three of them had formed a human ladder to reach a potential opening in the cave ceiling, after Noctis failed to warp onto the too soft roof.

"I can't tell; there's no sunlight!" Prompto yelled back.

"We've been here for going on thirty-seven hours. No doubt it's merely nighttime," Ignis said. He gripped Prompto by his calves when the other man almost overbalanced them by standing on his tippy-toes to better access the ceiling. "Keep checking!"

"Wait. I feel a breeze! And it smells like…pine trees? I think I've found us an exit!" There were the sounds of shuffling, and then clods of mud toppled down as Prompto presumably dug a bigger hole.

Gladiolus sputtered as some of the dirt ended up on his face. "Hey! Next time warn a guy."

"Oh, right. Look out below," Prompto said, seconds after he knocked another large portion of the roof loose. Gladiolus stumbled as he tried to avoid the clutter raining down on him, which caused Ignis to grunt and attempt to offset the movement. "Gladio, could you not?"

"Could you _not_ mess around up there?" he snapped in return. "What are you even doing?"

"Almost…got it…ahah!" Prompto must have grabbed onto something because his feet left Ignis' shoulders completely. His boots wriggled and then disappeared into the ceiling. More debris fell before a tree root poked out of the opening.

Ignis motioned Noctis to climb up, but Gladiolus shook his head. "Specs, you next. Scope out the other side and then I'll boost him up after you."

For once there wasn't an argument; the prospect of the unknown had Ignis convinced. He waved his hands around until he caught the root on the third pass and pulled himself through. They waited until the advisor's faint affirmative carried down to them.

Gladiolus clasped both hands together and bent at the knees. "Alley-oop, Noct. Just like we've practiced."

Noctis planted his foot in the center of the other man's palms and rested a hand on his broad shoulder. With all his strength, Gladiolus tossed him upwards, with Noctis also pushing off to gain a little more air. He latched onto the lead with one hand, dangling precariously. He was able to take hold with his other hand at the last minute. It was difficult to shimmy the rest of the way, but just when Noctis thought he was losing his grip again he crawled inside the muddy tunnel. Two sets of hands took him by the wrists and tugged him the rest of the way out.

With their combined efforts, they ripped the root off the tree and lowered it far enough for Gladiolus to grab on his own. At one point Noctis worried Gladiolus may become stuck, but after several heave-hos and a threat from the man himself, he popped free.

"Do you guys know what this means? We're finally liberated!" Prompto cheered, once the group was all gathered together. He dramatically fell to his knees. "I never thought we'd escape that soggy dungeon! Just look at these bushes, and flowers, and…nature! I could kiss it and the sky for being so dry— Ack!"

Just as Prompto was about to finish singing praises, a raindrop decided to fall into his eye. He brought a hand up a little too hard to blot his face and smacked himself in the nose by mistake.

"Tch. Yeah, real 'dry'," Gladiolus deadpanned. He tugged the sullied neckline of his tank top up to wipe off his face, although it was pointless with the incoming storm. Nevermind he smeared the dirt worse, rather than removed any.

" _Betrayer_ ," Prompto seethed. He shook a fist at the clouds and it poured harder on him. "Aw, man."

Noctis laughed at his friend's antics. Maybe he did so too hard since the tail end of his chuckle turned into coughing. No one else seemed to take notice except Ignis, whose head inclined in Noctis' direction. He asked, "Noct, are you all right?"

"M'fine," he said quickly. Noctis walked over to Prompto and grabbed him by the angry-fist to pull him to his feet. "Come on, let's return to camp."

"Where even _is_ camp? After those creeps—"

"Goblins," Ignis corrected.

"After those _assholes_ caused that rockslide and blocked us in I've been turned around." Sensing Ignis’ confusion, Prompto pointed to a yellow mystery patch on his cheek and said, "Look it, I swear one of'em spit on me, okay? So I'm not calling them by their proper name for as long as I hold a grudge, which is forever. From now on they are anything except Goblins to me."

"You just said their name," Gladiolus indicated.

"No, I said their names are 'anything _except_ Goblins'—"

Noctis sighed and said, "This is stupid" and reached inside his pants pocket for the chocobo whistle. They'd been stuck searching that ancestral tomb lead (which they could now confirm was _false_ ) for less than the five allotted days they'd rented birds from Wiz. Their rides should be roving somewhere waiting for them.

After one use of the whistle, a white blur dropped from a stony ridge and landed heavily at Noctis' back. His chocobo kicked up twigs and leaves as she flapped her wings. She squawked impatiently, so Noctis gave her a big hug and several deep neck rubs in apology.

"Sorry for keeping you, Bon Bon," he said. He'd tested a lot of other nicknames, but she'd refused to respond to anything else but the candy he'd offered her on the sly the first time they met. And ever since he greeted her with the gesture, the bird seemed to expect a hug _every_ time, like it was her just reward. The one instance Noctis forgot, she pecked him on top of his head and taken a couple hairs as payment.

Ignis' chocobo arrived right after, only second to Noctis' own ride in speed. The pastel blue fowl was exceptionally limber and would make a large profit in racing competitions, if Ignis were ever so inclined as to participate regularly. For now, he tended to limit his sessions to scouting ahead during excursions and not much else.

Last were Prompto's and Gladiolus' chocobos. Both were temperamental beasts, which might be why they were a suited mated pair. Gladiolus' more so than Prompto's, although the bodyguard had a ritual to settle matters.

He took the bird by the reins now and looked him dead in one eye, asking, "We gonna have a problem this time or what?" Gladiolus waited for the chocobo to blink, once, and then nodded. He gave the crown of feathers a quick ruffle. "Attaboy."

As they mounted their rides, Prompto cooed and pet his bird's front. "You coming along, girl? You coming along? Yeah, I can tell—" He stumbled as her wings flapped in his face. "Sorry, sorry! I forgot how sensitive you are on the chest, sorry. You're still beautiful and precious and I love you. Hey Gladio, do you think the chicks will look like Silky? If they do, I hope they're just as bright a yellow as she is."

Gladiolus hummed. "Maybe. Nothing wrong with another red Drumstick, though."

Prompto made a face as he settled onto the saddle and ushered his chocobo along, keeping pace with Bon Bon’s idle gait. "Well if they do, then they're definitely not sharing his namesake! Why couldn't you stick with something like…Vlad the Impaler or William the Conqueror?"

"Where do you come up with this stuff? _William?_ Nobody has a name like that."

"I'm an expert, okay? I put effort and consideration into them. See, I've already got Silky's and Drumstick's baby names picked out. A girl should be Meryl and a boy should be Irons; they're foolproof and the same ones I'm gonna use when I have kids," he boasted.

"You're naming your offspring after chocobos?" Gladiolus asked incredulously.

"What? No! My future children are inspiring the present— It doesn't matter," Prompto said, sulking. "If you're so smart, then what have you decided for yours? Come on, out with it! I bet a stud like you has the next generation of Amicitia's all figured out."

Gladiolus snorted. "Not me. I'll be awhile yet, although the way my sister tells it she's got that all covered. Iris is convinced she won't stop until she has a starter set."

Noctis and Ignis hadn't been involved with the exchange, but they joined Prompto in giving him peculiar looks. They knew the other man's disposition on having children until the future of Lucis was settled, but this tidbit was new. Gladiolus shrugged. "My mother's side of the family is predisposed to having one after the other. My uncle had a boy and a girl, too."

"Huh. What about you, Noct?" The prince tensed at Prompto's question, trying not to appear alarmed at the change of focus in the conversation. He stayed quiet, as if he hadn't heard the inquiry, but his friend was persistent. The gunner sidled his chocobo closer and elbowed Noctis in the arm. "Noooct? You still plan to marry Lady Lunafreya, right? I'm sure you must be set to have tons of heirs."

"Perish the thought," Ignis jested in his place. "It is said the child reflects the parent, magnified. I'm not certain the world is ready for all that increased mischief."

"Whatever," he mumbled, torn on the matter. Noctis was relieved not to talk about his future, especially in terms of matrimony and the responsibilities therein, but he could have done without the teasing. "Sometimes kids are the _opposite_. Maybe yours will be way more rebellious than you, ya know."

"All the more reason for me to adopt," Ignis said matter-of-factly. It was his turn to earn a couple surprised stares. The scrutiny must have gotten to him because Ignis turned in his saddle to catch their ogling. "Surely it does not seem so farfetched? The war has made no shortages of orphans. It would be a privilege to take in one or more such children and provide them a stable upbringing."

In a softened tone, Prompto is surprisingly the first to say, "That'd be really super awesome of you to do."

"Someday, yes, I suppose it would be 'really super awesome'," Ignis said. Despite the straight-laced way he repeated Prompto’s words, the edges of his smile were apparent.

Talk thankfully shifted to more idle subjects, allowing Noctis to fade into the background. The longer they traveled the wetter and colder he became, which lessened his willingness to want to participate in conversation. Soon he was soaked through, his uniform giving up the ghost after almost two days of abuse. Noctis' shaking would have loosened his grasp of the reins were it not for the fact his fingers had frozen in place.

It was also fortunate that Gladiolus was an expert trekker. During the downpour, it became impossible to see the lingering smoke trails from the campfire, but the guardsman's sense of direction was impeccable no matter the conditions. Eventually the telltale glow of the Oracle's wards shined through a thicket of trees.

The rain gave way to drizzle as they ascended the outcropping where the group made their campsite, then tapered off completely. Everything was still soaked. They'd left the chairs out, never intending to be gone this long. The weather report hadn't predicted a storm when they headed toward the supposed royal crypt.

While Noctis dismounted, a wave of dizziness struck him and he leaned into his chocobo for support. He'd assumed the exertion from the trip through the dungeon was temporary, but it'd been wishful thinking. Noctis startled as a gloved hand took the reins from his slackening grip.

The prince pushed away from Bon Bon to see Ignis standing there. His own blue chocobo hovered behind him, its reins in Ignis' other hand. Noctis stared his advisor in the eye, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.

"Go get changed, if you'd like. I can take care of Bon Bon in your stead," Ignis offered.

Gladiolus had no qualms stripping right there, and while he had the right idea, Noctis was less of an exhibitionist. He accepted Ignis' proposal, but opted to duck inside the tent to retrieve a new set of clothes. Noctis found the least offensive smelling towel shoved into a corner and used that to rub off the sweat and grime. He still felt grungy afterwards, however, it was too chilly to risk washing off in a nearby lake. He'd have to settle for the haphazard wipe down until they were ready to resume their journey and find a motel or caravan with a shower.

Noctis searched his duffel bag and wore whatever he found first. There was no reason for being fashionable. A pair of jeans, long-sleeve shirt, and pillow vest were thrown over a fresh set of undergarments. He'd worn the different attire earlier in the week, but they were an improvement compared to the alternative.

"You almost done?" Prompto asked. His shadow shown through the material of the tent.

Noctis rumbled his assent and crawled out to give his friend a turn. In the time he'd been inside, Ignis had dressed down. He'd stripped his jacket to reveal his arms in a gray undershirt. He was hard at work stewing something in a cast iron pot over the portable grill. Noctis left him to it.

By the campfire, Gladiolus had settled in while just wearing his boxers. He was talking into his cell phone. Now that they were outside with a reliable signal and at the safety of camp, it sounded like he was updating his sibling on their return status. Noctis joined him by the warm fire, sidestepping Drumstick and Silky. They had cuddled together behind Gladiolus' folding chair, the red chocobo preening the crest feathers on top of his mate's head.

Someone had draped a towel over his seat, similarly to Gladiolus', so he flopped into his own chair. He slumped to access the device in the deep recesses of his pants pocket. He'd transferred all his personal effects after he'd switched clothes. There were no messages, so while Noctis waited for dinner he played some games on his phone.

Noctis didn't realize how drowsy he was until a couple insistent prods from Bon Bon's beak roused him. He turned and she was just _there_ , when a moment ago he could have sworn she was wandering the region below. She tended to scour their resting places, like a protective mother guarding her nest, but she was more demanding of his attention today.

He gave his chocobo some extra loving strokes to her neck in hopes of appeasing her. She lowered her giant head, it taking up most of his torso, and gave Noctis a mouthful of feathers with her forced closeness.

"What is _with you?_ " he asked, more bemused than anything else. His throat felt prickly, but he laughed at Bon Bon's behavior.

"Chocobos have an innate ability to sense certain changes in their masters. They're akin to some pets, in that respect," Ignis said. He'd come up behind him, carrying plastic mugs with thick handles. One he passed to Gladiolus. The other he held with both hands, cupping the container until Noctis could accept the meal.

Noctis clenched his jaw tight, not wanting to give his advisor an opening to comment further on his condition. Ignis was just worrying worse than usual. There was _nothing_ going on.

A handful of gysahl greens materialized in Noctis' fingers, summoned from the armiger. He tossed them off the side of the campsite to distract Bon Bon. She chirped loudly, her tail quivering, and chased after the treat.

Ignis took the opportunity to hand him his food – some kind of warm, broth-y soup. Mixed in were a few chunks of carrots and celery. He set the mug in his lap and ate without a word, concentrating on picking around the vegetables. The vitamins were in the liquid, anyway, so no need to eat the mushy, nasty parts. It soothed his throat going down.

Bon Bon returned. Her feathers were puffed up, giving Noctis the impression she may be a tad peeved at his trickery. She hunkered down and leaned heavily against his chair; her much larger body threatened to topple him over. She kweh-ed incessantly. In apology, Noctis fed her his extra carrots and stroked her with an absent free hand.

"D'aw! Isn't that adorable?" Prompto said with sugary sweetness. After exiting the tent, he'd decided to shoot some pictures of Silky. He was documenting her progress when he noticed the prince with Bon Bon. Noctis flipped him off before Prompto could take a photo, ruining the shot he tried to take. "Hey! _That's_ not very cute."

"I'm going to bed," Noctis announced. He was already full, despite the small amount he'd managed to eat. The remainder of his meal went to his chocobo.

He returned to the tent, ignoring everyone's stares. He shut the flap in their faces. With no one there as a witness, Noctis let the exhaustion take over. He collapsed on his front, toeing off his shoes, and wasn't awake long enough to do much else.  
  
  
  
  
The next morning came and went. Noctis knew this because he noticed when Prompto clambered awake, and his friend was always the last to get up after Gladiolus and Ignis. He turned over and lazed in his sleeping bag. Eventually, a coughing fit demanded his attention more. After hacking into a fist for five minutes, there was no way Noctis was comfortable enough to return to sleep.

He reluctantly went outside and hissed as the sun blinded him. Noctis hadn't expected the sun to be so high in the sky; it was much later in the day then even he was usually permitted to sleep in. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, then decided better of it. There was a beat up old hat stuffed in his luggage that Navyth had gifted him after his first successful catch at Neeglyss Pond, and Noctis hunted for it now. Setting the headgear in place, he attempted to leave the tent again.

It was stifling and humid outside, when yesterday it was freezing. The effort to remove his extra layers of clothes was more than Noctis was willing to expel. He left them as-is.

Gladiolus was the sole person in sight, along with three of the four chocobos. Drumstick and Silky were still nestled together behind his chair. As soon as Noctis made a reappearance, Bon Bon waddled back from the edge of the woods.

He mumbled a "good morning" and crumpled into a chair. The walk from the tent to the campfire couldn't have been more than a couple steps, but Noctis felt like he'd run a marathon. His body ached everywhere.

"Good _afternoon_ ," Gladiolus stated. He was honing a sword and didn't look up from the task. At least he’d opted to wear some pants today.

Noctis scowled and closed his eyes. "Where's Prompto and Iggy?"

"Ignis wanted to scavenge for some herbs, since you're sick and all. Prompto went with to expedite the gathering process," he informed him. The offhand way he said it grated on Noctis' last nerve, but that explained why Gladiolus was here. Even if it was for a _stupid_ reason.

"I'm not sick," Noctis grouched. His throat betrayed him then, his voice cracking on the last word. It stung to talk. A cooler was by his feet and he reached inside for a bottle of water. Noctis was just parched from oversleeping or he hadn't hydrated himself enough during the previous trip. _Whatever_. He was fine.

Just then, the rest of their group happened to return. They'd doubled up on Ignis' chocobo, his advisor behind the reins. He slowed their ride to a stop. Noctis rounded on him before Ignis even stepped foot on the ground. "Did _you_ tell them I was sick?"

Ignis came up short, maybe at the sharp tone or at the accusation. Prompto leaned around him and answered, instead. "Huh, you're sick? I mean, I kind of figured, since you were boiling hot all night. And you're sort of pale…"

"No. I'm _not_ ," he snapped.

Gladiolus said, "Get off'em. I determined that you're unwell on my own."

"I said I'm not sick!"

That's when Noctis passed out. The sounds of Bon Bon squawking in distress followed him into darkness.  
  
  
  
  
There was a faint beeping sound. It was enough that Noctis couldn't ignore the disturbance. His eyelids clenched tighter together against the intrusion. He rolled over and hid under the covers more to try and block out the electronic noises.

The sounds cutoff, to be replaced with the rustling of bed sheets. "Noct? Psst, Noct!"

He buried deeper into the blankets, but the person was adamant.

"Hey, you awake?"

"No," Noctis mumbled.

"Dude!" It had to be Prompto making that racket. Nobody else was this excitable. Noctis frowned and refused to budge. He hoped his friend would take the hint and leave him alone, but a hand on his shoulder gave his body a couple shakes. He asked, "How're you feeling?"

"Tired," he stressed, wanting to spur him into silence.

"You passed out! How can you still be tired?"

That didn't seem right. Noctis remembered… Well. Musing on it, he didn't recollect much of anything. Had he already woken up? He vaguely recalled that he might have met up with Gladiolus, but afterwards was such a hazy blur.

"I don't…" Noctis tried to sit up, but his arms shook too much as he pushed himself upright. Prompto hurried to steady him, both palms flat on his back. If it were anyone else Noctis would have brushed off the contact, the area being sensitive, but the sensation of comfort broke through his revere.

In a somber tone, Prompto said, "Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy."

"What happened?" He dropped to an elbow and watched Prompto over his shoulder, the blanket covering the lower portion of his face.

"I'm not really sure? This morning Ignis randomly wanted to go plant picking, and when we got back you weren't talking sense. Then you collapsed."

Some of what Prompto recited came back to him in stages. Noctis ducked his head in shame as he recalled the way he lashed out at Gladiolus and the allegations he flung at Ignis. To Prompto, who'd sparingly been exposed to Noctis at his lowest, the severe lapse in his mood would appear confusing.

"You had us all kinds of worried," Prompto said, almost hushed. It garnered Noctis' attention, regardless. He adjusted his shoulders in nervous habit, and his friend removed his hands like he was burned. Noctis couldn't have felt guiltier.

"This just happens sometimes. It's no big deal."

"Um, this _never_ happened when we were in school! I'd remember if you passed out in the middle of math class. The only time you were gone was when your dad summoned you to the Citadel for those top secret—" Prompto's expression went blank. The gunner was so expressive, animated even when idle, so he knew Prompto was serious when he went still in contemplation.

"You weren't in council meetings all those times you had to skip school, were you?" he asked directly.

The words wouldn't form; all he could do was nod in confirmation. His friend moved beside him, and in a panic Noctis scrambled to halt Prompto from leaving. His worrying was unfounded. Prompto was reaching out to him again. Noctis met him halfway, his fingertips catching on the other man's bracelets. He was relieved Prompto wasn't angry enough to flounce off, but Noctis wanted to make sure he didn't.

"Ever since—" the Marilith attack, but he couldn't put a name to his childhood misery, even after the creature's demise at his hands. The monster haunted his nightmares for years and would continue to haunt him for the near future. "—my accident as a kid, the doctors said my immune system was weakened."

Saying 'weakened' made his stomach churn worse. Admitting that to anyone, most of all Prompto, hurt worse than the illness wracking his body. He owed it to his friend, though. Noctis had kept this hidden from him long enough.

"Back then, I'd get sick all the time. It was like I had no natural defenses left in me. We tried everything: gut therapy, boosters, remedies. Shit like that."

"When you were in Tenebrea?" Prompto asked. He whispered, as if afraid Noctis would stop if he interrupted.

"Luna's mom… Her magic was all that helped," Noctis confirmed. At least, until the queen _couldn't_ anymore. Her treatments ended with the invasion of Niflheim. That was another painful reminder, one which he wasn't equipped to delve into, even with Prompto.

"As I got older I didn't get sick as often, but when I did… It was better if the public didn't know." _Better if his best and only friend outside the palace didn't know how pathetic he was_ , but what Noctis actually confessed was, "That's what my dad and his staff concluded, anyway. It'd be risky if anyone found out how easy a target I was during those times."

"I'm sorry," he said, surprising the prince. Prompto shifted on his knees, but kept his hand firmly in place, under Noctis'. "That totally sucks. It must have been miserable and lonely for you. I know you said it was dangerous to tell me, but I am sorry that I didn’t do more for you."

"No, I should have told you," Noctis said in his own apologetic way.

"Nah, no biggie. I'll just have to make up for all the lost opportunities!" Prompto pulled away, but only enough to lie against the prince's side. He stayed on top of the layers of blankets and sleeping bags, but shared Noctis' pillow. Noctis should have protested – he was feverish and resembled a swamp. Nevermind Prompto could catch his illness, too, by such close proximity.

Instead, Noctis transferred onto his opposite side and watched as Prompto resumed playing games on his phone. It'd been what was generating the strange noises earlier. He watched for awhile, offering idle commentary in the forms of suggestions or jibes. He felt fatigued from his prior confession, however, and without his noticing he dozed off.  
  
  
  
_The city of Insomnia is burning. Where smoke doesn't obscure the skyline, airships blot it out overhead. Buildings crumble under heavy artillery barrages._

_Noctis stands under one of those collapsing structures – the Citadel. An explosion from inside, burning brighter and hotter than the sun, originates from the tallest tower. The blast rockets straight through the entirety of the palace, blowing out windows and supporting structures._

_He knows he should move, but both feet stay planted shoulder width apart. His arms dangle at his sides as he cranes his neck back, hair billowing into his eyes. The dark strands aren't enough to block out the incoming stone, glass, and steel falling towards him._

_Three sets of hands shove him out of harm's way. Noctis raises his arms to feebly defend himself. All he experiences is a blast of heat. He cracks open an eye to see Lestallum overrun with daemons._

_The creatures crawl on top of everything. A Naga's body coils in and out of the doors, windows, and balconies of the Leville Hotel. Goblins are ransacking and vandalizing property. An Iron Giant slams its greatsword into a water fountain, decimating the architecture, before noticing Noctis' presence._

_He dodges to the right and rolls under its blade. Noctis motions to summon a sword of his own, but nothing happens. He avoids another swing from the Iron Giant's weapon. In the span where the enemy tries to re-orientate itself, he calls on his arsenal of spears, guns, shields,_ anything _. The sharp stab of light that signifies a weapon materializing simply isn't there._

_Noctis sees no alternative; he flees. He rushes into a side street and runs into a Ronin. He slides under the rapid swings of its katana. Without losing his momentum, he keeps running. Another daemon appears, this time through a portal at his feet. It swipes at his pant leg. His ankle and calf bleed immediately. He continues, ignoring the injury._

_The marketplace is dead ahead. Daemons swarm the streets here, too. He leaps onto one of the tarps above the closest stall. The monsters howl after him. Some tear down the shops in his wake or spit acid. A wad of it lands on Noctis' shoulder as he races to the end. He stumbles the last of the way, striking the ground with one knee._

_He grits his teeth and brushes off his sleeve as best he can. Ultimately, Noctis rips the material away when it doesn't stop tingling. The skin is raw under his glove and fingertips. He limps to the nearest steps, panting up each one. His lungs feel as though they are ablaze. It is hard to breathe as he crests the stairs._

_Where he expects to see the meteorite is a gaping, dark hole. The metal platform that was once the sole access to the power plant is mangled beyond repair. It was broken off at the end, as if a Behemoth had chomped down and gnawed on it._

"Noct?"

_Growls and hisses from behind him have Noctis whirling around. Daemons close in on all sides. He steps backwards, startling when the heel of his boot floats over open air. Noctis stands at the edge of the bridge and stares into the divide. There is nowhere else to go._

"Noct!"

_He faces forward. The monsters are closer. A Hobgoblin swings a giant fist at him, knocking him square in the chest. His body goes flying._

"Will you quit it? It's just me!"  
  
_Noctis' plummeting into nothingness stops, like a puppet caught on its strings. His breathing remains erratic, but he isn't inhaling ash, or fumes, or death. What he smells is muskier, with hints of wood smoke and tree sap. Noctis doesn't know how long he's suspended there. Eventually, the natural scents calm his panic. He eases downward, righting himself. His eyes flutter open_  
  
  
  
  
to see nothing, at first. Situated across his forehead was something damp. Pulling a face, Noctis sat up. What turned out to be a washcloth fell into his lap. For now, he disregarded it.

A small lantern was switched on, but some last vestiges of sunlight filtered into the tent. He couldn't figure how long he'd slept, but Noctis knew it was much later in the day and that Prompto was gone. To be replaced by Gladiolus' guardianship, apparently.

The other man was lying on his side, head propped on his left hand and leafing through a history textbook. Noctis didn't comprehend why, exactly, but seeing Gladiolus whole and present calmed the remainder of his frantic heartbeat. It was dumb, needing to feel safe with him right then, but it wasn't like he'd admitted the fact aloud. He could go on pretending that everything was normal.

Without breaking from his reading, Gladiolus reached behind himself and proffered a bottle. Noctis' arms felt like the consistency of a wet noodle, but he managed to accept the offering. The plastic top was loosened for him, so he chugged what turned out to be a flavored drink. He didn't stop to check its contents until two-thirds of the liquid was gone and he needed to breathe.

Noctis gasped when he finished. He examined the exterior, turning the container in his hands. Kenny Crow stared back at him, promoting the orange-infused sports drink. Greedily, he finished what was left. Some spilled out the corner of his mouth, so Noctis wiped the excess off on his sleeve.

"What time is it?" he croaked.

"Dinner time," Gladiolus said curtly. Reaching behind again, he presented a stainless steel thermos. It was the simple variety where the top popped off to serve as a café mug and the secondary was a twist cap. Like before, the seal was broken for him. Not enough to spill, but Noctis didn't have to exert himself to open it.

Inside was leftover soup. The idea of eating _another_ helping didn't appeal to him, but he was starving. Noctis forewent the faux-mug accessory and drank right from the thermos. The soup was lukewarm and all broth; this made it easy to choke down. Although he'd been ravenous, Noctis only managed to finish a fraction of his meal.

He capped the thermos, fumbling twice in the process. His coordination was next to useless, but a quick glance over to Gladiolus revealed him too absorbed in his book to have witnessed his flub. It could be an act, since very little ever got past the other man, but Noctis didn't want to risk bringing attention to his lack of skill.

Noctis hesitated before handing the container to Gladiolus. He wordlessly took it. The prince cleared his throat, it backfiring when a pinch formed in the back of his throat, but he managed to ask, "I miss anything?"

"Well," Gladiolus started, with the air of an apex predator that'd just found its opening to go for the jugular, "someone gave us one hell of a scare earlier. He was kind of a dick about it."

He scowled, immediately on the defensive. Gladiolus tended to have that effect on him. Afterwards he appreciated the honesty, since transparency was hard to come by in his royal life, but getting steamrolled in the process was never a pleasant experience.

" _I know_." Noctis side-eyed the other man and caught Gladiolus staring him down, chin resting in his palm. He wasn't yelling or posturing, meaning he _might_ not be mad yet. This was something altogether worse. Gladiolus' disappointment didn't often supersede his temperament, but when it did, he upheld anyone's bullheadedness.

Yeah, well. Noctis was disappointed, too.

"I was doing so much better," Noctis seethed. He took up the washcloth in his lap and wrung it between his fingers. "The fuck am I getting sick for, at a time like this?"

Gladiolus let his book slip shut. He reasoned, "It's not like you've been exposed to these kinds of stressful conditions before. You gotta take it slow. Besides, you might as well take advantage; this is the only chance you'll get where I'm willing to go easy on you."

" _Easy?_ " he asked in disbelief.

"Yes, easy! Iggy was worried about you, you know. We all are."

"So?" Noctis mumbled, still unable to look him in the eye.

"So get better. We can't afford for our fearless leader to be out of commission for too long."

Gladiolus sat up and took away the washcloth making Noctis' fingertips all wrinkly. He replaced it with a new, cooler one. Contrary to his tone, he then ruffled the prince's hair and smoothed the bangs out of his face. Embarrassed by the care, Noctis showed him his back and squished the compress over his eyes.

"Fine. We done?" he asked.

"If you feel up to being a decent member of society," Gladiolus said. He was already returning to his book, the creak of its spine sounding as he resumed where he left off.

 _Ass_ , he thought. At Noctis' best it was like arguing with a brick wall, and he especially wasn't feeling up to competing with Gladiolus in his current state. He reluctantly conceded, instead. "Maybe later."

Gladiolus grunted and said, "Good enough."

It didn't take much for them to come to terms, which was a relief for Noctis' anxiety. His shoulders eased as the tension left him. The washcloth smelled earthy where Gladiolus had held it, reminding Noctis of…he didn't know what, but it lulled him further, regardless.  
  
  
  
  
Noctis awakened not with confusion or mild terror, but an off-ness that he can't explain. And it was completely dark. All their lanterns were off, but enough firelight from their campfire shown past the tent that he could see enough.

There was a huddled lump beside him. Prompto had cocooned himself in his sleeping bag, curled into a tiny ball. The sole part of him that remained visible were some blond tufts of hair that stuck out the top.

Noctis, lying on his back, needed only to turn his head to observe Gladiolus on his other side. His form was more distinct in the dark, body stretched out and one arm thrown over his eyes. He snored softly in his sleep.

He didn't spot Ignis, causing Noctis to lift his head a little higher in an attempt to find him. His advisor's bedroll was empty. Ignis' missing presence might explain the odd sensation that'd enveloped him while he slept.

With an effort, Noctis pushed away all but one bed covering. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders like a shawl as he exited the tent. He almost tripped over Bon Bon on his way out. She raised her head from the crouch she was in and he gave her an idle scritch under the chin to dissuade her from making any unhappy sounds. She clicked her beak softly at the treatment and lowered her head once he was done, but watched him like a hawk.

He surveyed the rest of the outside. Their chairs encircled the fire, which cast warm hues that intermixed with the blues of the haven wards. Some rustling by the portable grill drew his attention, where Ignis busied himself cleaning up for the night. Silky was hovering over his shoulder, probably begging for leftover scraps.

Noctis walked closer, disturbing some loose stones on the ground. Ignis straightened in place. His hardened expression faded to concern as he realized it was Noctis making an approach and not an enemy.

"Noct! What are you doing awake?" he asked. He gently brushed Silky away and intercepted Noctis halfway. The blanket was wrapped tight around Noctis' shoulders, but Ignis fussed with the covering anyway and drew it closer around his front. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm okay," Noctis said. The reassurance sounded like a singular word rather than two. It was an effort to talk, although surprisingly not because of a sore throat. The soup and electrolytes from his drink earlier had started to aid his wrecked immune system, but his sinuses hadn't gotten the memo yet. The congestion in his nose made conversation a challenge.

"…Of course." Ignis' ministrations slowed, the change in demeanor not immediately apparent.

An arm curled around Noctis' hunched back and guided him toward a seat near the campfire instead of insisting he return inside. "Come-come, then. It's late. At least get off your feet."

Noctis didn't argue and dropped heavily into his chair. The heat from the fire felt good on his muscles and he eased deeper into his seat. Ignis didn't join him, fiddling with something over by the grill. At first he assumed the other man went back to cleaning or prepping for tomorrow, but eventually he came over with a steaming mug.

He frowned, at first refusing to accept it. Noctis felt up to his eyeballs in soup and the thought of choking anymore down unsettled his gut. "You didn't have to do this. I'm not hungry."

"It's tea," Ignis said. His hand didn't waver as he continued to hold it out to him. "I added ginger root to quail your stomach and lemon to boost your recovery."

Noctis grunted and unfurled a hand from his blanket to finally take the drink. He held it close to his face, allowing the scent and vapors to radiate on his skin. The initial sip cleared his sinuses with a sudden _pop_ that had him gagging, more so than from the aftertaste.

"I may have brewed it rather strong," Ignis supplied, _distinctly_ unapologetic. Noctis was about to unleash a string of sarcastic gratitude when he felt something rest on his shoulders. He glanced around and saw Ignis' purple spotted jacket resting there, the sight making him clamp his mouth shut.

He stared into the recesses of his tea instead, clutching the mug tighter in his hands. Ignis kindly shooed Silky away from his work area. The chocobo had been pecking at the stew pot in his absence and emptied whatever had been inside. In the tranquility, with his friend not paying attention to him, Noctis said, "You're going to make a cool dad someday."

The advisor's ministrations missed a beat, but the scraping of his brush on the grates resumed before he deigned to reply. "Thank you. Although, as Gladio pointed out, that's a long ways off for all of us."

"I know that. I'm just saying," Noctis mumbled.

His task of cleaning done, Ignis grabbed his own drink – a can of decaf Ebony coffee – and joined him. Ignis folded himself neatly into a chair, one leg crossed at the knee.

"You don't normally discuss these matters. Has it been weighing on your mind?" he asked. Ignis popped the tab on the container of coffee and the bitter smell intermingled with Noctis' tea. The prince didn't much care for either or the combination of smells, but the Ebony was at least familiar to deal with.

"Something like that," Noctis admitted. Fatherhood had been low on his list of priorities, but it was a lesser topic than what was really bothering him. When it came to battle or politics he had no qualms trusting Ignis' wit, but broaching any of his many shortcomings was painful for Noctis. He didn't know how to convey how sorry he was for the way he'd acted, even in private.

Although, now that he needed to face the subject, he wasn't _that_ relieved. It was kind of useless to worry about heirs if he died before reclaiming the throne. "Luna and I exchanged whole books, talking about a lot of things, but…that wasn't ever one of them."

Truth be told, Noctis wasn't sure how she felt about children, either. He could see _her_ surrounded by them. Luna was so full of love and kindness, more than enough to go around. That didn't mean she'd want some of her own, though. Especially if she were sincere about traveling to honor her Oracle duties, on top of being a queen. If anyone were capable of doing it, however, he believed she could.

"Well, perhaps you can start small. Shared custody of a feline, perhaps?" Ignis' smirking around his can of decaf showed how clever he thought his aside, but Noctis' interests were avidly piqued.

" _Just_ one?" he asked.

"Only to decide if the dual responsibility is manageable. Should you two be amenable, you may decide to turn your shared kingdoms into a cat sanctuary."

"I can work with that," Noctis said.

The tea had gone cold in his hands. He set the remainder aside to bury his limb under the layers of protection he had. Ignis finished off his drink and had other ideas, it seemed. He rose from his seat and doused the fire, the embers turning gray and then black.

"If you're feeling tired then let's get you to bed, proper."

"But I'm comfortable," he whined.

Ignis approached and bundled his jacket tighter around Noctis' shoulders, ushering him out of his chair. "Now do as you're told, young man."

They held the charade for all of five seconds until the both of them gave way to laughter. Noctis got to his feet, leaning into Ignis as he guided him to the tent. "There's no way that's going to work on your future kid."

"Then it's best to practice my technique while I can," he reasoned.

Noctis stopped in his tracks. His friend didn't pressure him, but he did stare quizzically.

"Thanks. For the soup yesterday. It helped; even if it was just vegetable water." Ignis snorted, but Noctis' forehead buried into the other man's chest. "And sorry. Ya know, for being a jackass."

"Gladio butted in again and let into you, I see," he said wryly.

"He was right, though." He recoiled at the admission. "Gladio can never know I said that. I forbid you from referring to it."

"As you've decreed. Think nothing of it," Ignis demurred. His reassurance didn't have the desired outcome. It wasn't as obvious when Ignis initially evaded mentioning it, but Noctis picked up on his careful choice of words. The prince only had himself to blame, due to his earlier vehemence about his health.

"You're allowed to be annoyed at me," Noctis grouched. He remembered a time when Ignis nagged him daily to do his homework, to keep with politics, to regulate his time wisely, what to eat. Whenever they came to a head it was almost a relief. Noctis wasn't _looking_ for a fight, but he'd relax better knowing what the other man was really thinking.

"Your guilt is evidence enough of your regret," Ignis said, "but if it means that much to you, all is forgiven."

The pardon came so readily, so _easily_. Noctis lifted his head and turned in Ignis' grip. His hold loosened, but Ignis left his hands in place so they slid along Noctis' body. His expression wasn't open, but it was serene.

"After all, I am well acquainted with your poor mannerisms during these weathered times."

"Theeere it is," Noctis deadpanned, although he slumped in relief. If Ignis was making quips at his expense, then matters really were settled.

"Anymore of my council that you require before we retire?" Ignis asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. Bedtime," he announced.

Noctis swept past Bon Bon and entered the tent. He collapsed in the middle of their two friends, elbowing his way and wriggling around to reclaim his spot. Normally he was opposed to sharing his space and threatened to kick anyone who got too close. However, his temperature was fluctuating again, and Prompto and Gladiolus were space heaters reincarnate.

At his insistence, Gladiolus grunted in his sleep and rolled over to show his back. Noctis greedily turned so his back pressed against the wider expanse of his, soaking up the guardsman's body heat. In turn, Noctis pressed his face into the comfort of Prompto's side.

Ignis was more meticulous (and considerate) in comparison. He was careful not to disturb anyone as he took vigilance on the far side of Prompto. Noctis listened to him settling in, adjusting his pillows, before laying down. The soft opening and closing of his eyeglasses case predated the sigh he released as he went to sleep. It was almost too quiet for Noctis to hear, but he did and it was enough to urge him to sleep, too.  
  
  
  
  
A sharp prod in the middle of his back roused Noctis from his slumber. He'd assumed that he was alone this late in the morning, but maybe Gladiolus was keeping watch again. And being the big jerk he is.

"Knock it off," he grumbled. Another jab elicited a blind swat over his shoulder. "Quit it!"

" _Kweh!_ "

He yelped at the foghorn in his ear. Noctis got caught in the sheets and sleeping bags as he mad-scrambled to face the loud intruder. His chocobo had shoved her head inside, almost to the full extent her neck allowed.

"Bon Bon, what—" Noctis forewent talking and feebly gave her a firm shove in the direction of the entrance. She answered him with a short string of chirps and clacks of her beak. Laughter outside, most likely at his expense, caused Noctis' cheeks to flush brighter than his fever already had. He pushed harder at her, but she didn't budge. "I'm up, I'm up! Now get out."

His bird was as responsive to moving as a Regalia without gas in its tank: heavy and wily, at best. Eventually there was enough room for him to crawl between her legs and escape. It wasn't his most graceful awakening, but at least he wasn't crowded inside the tent anymore. A _click_ of someone taking a picture with their phone had Noctis' head snapping up. Gladiolus' fingers were already flying across the digital keyboard.

"Delete that!" he ordered and rushed over. Noctis went to snatch the cell phone away from him. Gladiolus, _infuriatingly_ , just had to raise his arms out of reach while still messaging whoever it was he was contacting.

"Too late. Iris says you're adorable. Like one of Bon Bon's little chicks."

Noctis practically scaled Gladiolus' body to grab the device from him, but it was true. The chat screen was full of hearts and kissy-face emojis under a picture of Noctis' gangly escape. He was tucked into the chocobo's downy feathers, all but his face and an arm visible underneath her.

While he fumed, Gladiolus asked, "You're pretty spirited today. Feeling better?"

"I _was_."

"Let him be," Ignis reprimanded from the background. His was the only other chocobo present, it watching curiously as Ignis sewed buttons and mended holes in their clothes. Noctis wished _his_ fowl acted that docile.

"Yeah, let me be," Noctis said. He tossed Gladiolus' smart phone, aiming for his face, but the other man caught it without breaking eye contact. His smirk had Noctis scowling. "Where's Prompto?"

"Hunting," Gladiolus said. His grin hadn't abated; it may have even doubled in size at the declaration.

The prince stared at him expectantly, but when Gladiolus wasn't forthcoming with more information he turned to regard Ignis for guidance. Still without deterring from his task, the advisor clarified, "Prompto volunteered to go fishing for our breakfast."

"Fishing," Noctis mimicked, albeit disbelieving.

"Yep," Gladiolus said.

"We're going to starve," he determined.

"I can hear you guys!" Prompto called from somewhere behind and below them. He was riding on Silky, with Drumstick tethered to her saddle. The red chocobo was loaded down with two sacks, presumably full of fish.

"Oh, my. This _is_ a pleasant surprise," Ignis said. He folded the shirt in his hands and set it on top of a pile of other completed garments in a basket.

Gladiolus was already hauling one of the bags off his chocobo, Noctis attempting to see around his shoulder. This was unbelievable; whenever _he_ wanted to go fishing, he practically had to beg Prompto to accompany him. Even then, his friend stood around complaining, if he wasn't idling on his phone or fiddling with the settings on his camera. And here his friend was, with a week's worth of trout!

Ignis came over and peeked inside the other bag. He lifted one of the fish by the gills, turning it every which way to inspect the haul. "That's peculiar. These appear to already be partially cooked?"

The reason why came to Noctis. He weakly shoved Prompto in the arm. His friend flinched, although it was out of shame as opposed to pain. "Cheater!"

"Lightning magic _isn't_ cheating!" Prompto sniffed haughtily. "There are no rules to fishing, so fair is fair! You should be thanking me, you know."

"I suppose my work is minimized," Ignis said dryly. He chose a few other specimens for breakfast. "Jerky may be best for the remaining stock. Gladio, if you would?"

"On it," the other man said. Gladiolus grabbed both sacks to begin the process of converting the rest for long-term storage.

Prompto shifted from foot-to-foot as Ignis began to fillet their food. "Um."

"Yes?" Ignis asked.

"The first few I tried to catch… I mean…" He floundered for awhile, before settling on, "You might want to be extra careful? Or we shouldn't chew too hard. Whichever."

Ignis' hand stilled for a second, before resuming with the same skilled and harried pace as before. "Ah. Not precisely how I foresaw us adding iron to our diet. I'll be sure to be thorough while deboning the meat."

"Yeah," Prompto agreed, ducking his head.

During the activity, Noctis meandered over to a chair and sat down. He kicked out his legs and clasped both hands on his chest. After Bon Bon was assured that he wasn't going to choke on his own flem during his sleep she'd dismissed him to go scouring in the grass for bugs, leaving him the first chance to be left alone to his own devices.

"Oi!" Gladiolus voice called over, interrupting his thoughts. "You going to help out here or what?"

"Can't. Too sick." Noctis fake hacked into a fist, which morphed into a real coughing fit.

"Oh. _Now_ you're sick. When five minutes ago you were on the mend, and the days _before that_ you weren't sick at all."

Noctis ignored the guardsman's grumblings. If he'd really wanted the help, Gladiolus would have thrown the prince over his shoulder and made him assist in turning fish into jerky. So he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [writing blog on Tumblr](http://snaurus.tumblr.com/) for more content!


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